


Never Date Your Childhood Crush

by the_overlord



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A little angst, And Derek's misconceptions of when people want space, Dating, Fluff galore, M/M, Pack Meetings, oblivious!Stiles, pining!derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 19:40:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_overlord/pseuds/the_overlord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lydia asks him out, Stiles can't believe his luck. But a less than enthusiastic response from the Pack and an argument with Derek leave him feeling less than ecstatic. But by the time he realises that he might have been wrong about loving Lydia, it might be too late to work things out with the person he really likes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Date Your Childhood Crush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Madame_Beret](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Beret/gifts).



‘You’re late.’

 

‘I know, I know, but only by like, 3 minutes. And I have a good reason too, like the best reason, like the most unbelievably, breath-takingly, splendiferous  reason any lowly human could have for being 3 minutes late to a werewolf pack meeting.’

 

‘Spit it out.’

 

‘Ah, but you see Mr Alpha, this is not something one simply _spits out_ , this is something to be savoured and worshiped and gloated about for centuries and eons, and even then people will marvel at its excellence.’

 

Derek scowled, but then again Derek _always_ scowled.

 

‘Fine, fine, I can see you are all waiting with bated breath to find out,’

 

In actuality no one was really listening to Stiles apart from Derek who was doing so with a glare rather than the aforementioned ‘bated breath’. Erica was inspecting her fingernails in the corner, spread out across a neon purple beanbag Stiles hadn’t seen before. Isaac was half listening, his eyes on Stiles, but his fingers were tapping out complicated beats onto the wood of the coffee table so it was unlikely that his full attention was on the big revelation. Boyd was midway through devouring a large bag of crisps, shoving handful after handful into his mouth, barely even chewing before scarfing down more. As for Allison and Scott, they were curled together on the sofa, practically intertwined, whispering quietly to each other. Judging by the disgusted looks the other three betas kept throwing their way, their whispering wasn’t quiet enough to avoid detection of werewolf hearing. Trust Scott to forget his own species.

 

Regardless of his less than attentive crowd, Stiles soldiered on, eyes bright and cheeks flushed with excitement.

 

‘Guess who has a date with Lydia Martin.’

 

The whole room froze. One second everyone was doing their own thing, ignoring Stiles, and the next all eyes were on him and he was staring at six shocked, panicked, _disbelieving_ , faces. It wasn’t quite what he’d been going for, the silent surprise was slightly underwhelming when he’d expected congratulations and maybe a couple of bro hugs, but he was pretty sure nothing could sour his Lydia Martin high so he kept on grinning, only letting a slight bitter edge creep into his voice when he broke the silence.

 

‘Well don’t all run to congratulate me at once. You know, I thought you’d all be a little happier for me seeing as pretty much _all_ my dreams are coming true, but yeah, whatever, have it your way.’

 

He shrugged, watching the wolves trade concerned, even vaguely _terrified_ looks with abject puzzlement. It was Scott who finally spoke, and as he did so he kept tossing looks over at Derek, as if looking to his Alpha for confirmation. Scott had _never_ cared about Derek’s confirmation before, what the hell was going on?

 

‘Stiles,’ he started tentatively. Straight away his tone put Stiles on edge. He couldn’t help but feel he’d missed something, something important. For god’s sake, he’d only been three minutes late. What the hell had happened before he’d got there?

 

‘It’s not that we’re not happy for you, we are,’ he trailed off again, licking his lips nervously, eyes flicking to Derek again, but the Alpha was hunched up in the corner, having retreated onto a ratty armchair at some point in the conversation, and was avidly avoiding all eye contact. His grip on the armchair was merciless though, and even with human senses Stiles could have sworn that he heard the cloth covered wood splinter from across the room. The man, wolf, whatever, looked positively _pained_ as he stared resolutely at the wall behind Isaac’s head, eyebrows furrowed.

 

‘Is this about Jackson? Like some sort of loyalty thing? Are you worried I’m going to emotionally weaken the pack with relationship drama? Is that it?’

 

Erica snorted.

 

‘ _Something_ like that, yeah.’

 

Stiles sighed, hand skimming through his hair. It was longer now, the strands catching on his fingers uncomfortably.

 

‘Look, Jackson’s a big boy, and while I’m not going to rub his face in the fact I’m dating Lydia, hence telling you guys when he’s not here, I am also not going to _not_ date her because of him. _He_ broke up with _her_ remember, he’s not really got any right to be pissed anyway, if anything he should be happy she’s moved on because I’m pretty sure she was planning his murder before this, and if anyone can hide a body it’s Lydia.’

 

He trailed off dreamily, and he should probably worry that he was getting dreamy over the prospect of Lydia murdering someone, but hey, one, that person was _Jackson_ , and two, so he had a thing for the beautiful people who could probably get away with murder, that in itself wasn’t a crime. Nor was it public knowledge.

 

Derek growled pulling him from his reverie, the noise low and dangerous, making the hairs stand up on the back of Stiles’ neck. He raised his hands up placatingly.

 

‘Woah there big guy, calm down, I won’t talk about murdering pack members anymore. God, so touchy. Anyway, look, if it gets really awkward with Jackson, I’ll back off for a bit alright? Problem solved.’

 

The pack relaxed a bit, tension ebbing from the room like water leaking from a faucet. Slowly but surely. Stiles shrugged again.

 

‘Yeah, it’s pretty simple actually. I mean it’s not like you guys won’t be able to survive without me if you have to, I’m hardly integral to anyone’s survival, and if I’m not around as much then I won’t be stepping on Jackson’s toes more than I have to.’

 

The tension slammed back into the room, ten times as potent as before. Across the room Derek had whipped his head around, eyes drilling into Stiles’, warring emotions flashing through them quicker than Stiles could keep track of. Anger, disbelief, pain, scorn, more expressions that Stiles couldn’t even begin to parse out. For the second time that evening Stiles felt like he’d missed something important. He groaned and threw his arms out the side in exasperation.

 

‘What? What’s the problem now?’

 

‘You want to leave the pack?’

 

Derek’s laser sharp stare persisted, but coupled with the barely human growl it was infinitely more threatening. Stiles couldn’t meet his gaze, part of his mind wondering whether Alpha’s had laser eye powers that no one had bothered to tell him about, but every time he caught a glimpse of Derek’s expression he was baffled by the pain and _hurt_ reflecting back at him.

 

‘No, that’s not what I meant –’

 

‘That’s what you _said_. You said you’d ‘ _back off_ ’ if things got awkward. Back off from _us_. You’d pick some girl over – over _us_? Over _pack_?’

 

Stiles bristled.

 

‘First of all, her name is _Lydia_ and she is not just ‘ _some girl_ ’ she is the girl I’ve been after for _years_. Secondly, I said I’d back off _if_ things got awkward. I don’t _want_ to, but I will if I have to. She means a lot to me.’

 

‘And we don’t?’

 

‘That’s not what I’m saying! You’re important to me, of course you are, but she’s done nothing wrong, and _she’s_ not the one trying to make me choose.’

 

‘Yeah, because _you’re_ doing that for her. And you’re choosing _her_.’

 

Derek was practically screaming, his eyes wild red and furious. Despite being practically the same height, Derek seemed to tower over Stiles as he snarled down at him. Ignoring every bone in his body, every survival instinct firing in his brain, Stiles refused to step back, refused to show he was scared. Around the room the Betas had plastered themselves to the walls and furniture, cowering, obviously hoping to avoid any involvement. Stiles scoffed quietly, silently thanking them for their non-existent help.

 

‘Why the hell does this matter to you so much? Is my dating someone really that big of a deal? Because I _know_ you don’t care about Jackson _this_ much, so what the hell is going on? I mean for god’s sake, Scott’s dating a _hunter’s_ daughter, and you all seem pretty chill about that. Why do you have such a problem with Lydia?’

 

From the sofa Scott began to growl warningly, arms tightening protectively around Allison when she flinched at Stiles’ abrasive tone. He knew he’d feel guilty about the low blow later, but at that moment in time Stiles couldn’t bring himself to care if he’d hurt their feelings. He was just too mad. Derek turned to face Scott, eyes still burning, expression livid, and it didn’t take long before Scott was cowering and quiet again. Derek looked back at Stiles.

 

‘This is different.’

 

Stiles couldn’t be sure but Derek sounded almost sheepish underneath the growling.

 

‘ _Why_?’

 

‘It just _is_.’

 

‘That’s not an answer Derek. You’re being totally unreasonable and you know it. I’m going on a date with Lydia, I’m _dating_ Lydia, and if you have a problem that for whatever messed up, territorial, _bullshit_ reason you’ve concocted in that gelled-up fucking train wreck of a brain of yours, then you know what? You can go screw yourself because right now I don’t want to be in the same fucking _room_ as you, let alone the same pack.’

 

He trailed off, pretty much panting from the exertion as all the adrenaline and anger and fight drained out of him. His whole body slumped in on itself, suddenly feeling very tired, very heavy. All he wanted to do in that moment was get out of there before he said or did anything stupid, like try to punch Derek in the face. He didn’t want to have to lie to his dad about why he had a broken hand. Or maybe Derek would just kill him and save him the trouble. Somehow that didn’t make the prospect of staying any more enticing.

 

Derek, for his part, was just staring at him, that strange mixture of hurt and confusion clouding his eyes again. Stiles ran a hand across his own eyes so he didn’t have to look at it, slightly worried about what it was doing to the knots in his stomach. He vaguely wondered when he’d actually come to care about the man, when he’d crossed that boundary from necessary ally to actual friend. Whenever it was it had happened so seamlessly, so effortlessly, that Stiles hadn’t even noticed until he was screaming in the guy’s face. It was all so ridiculous.

 

Eventually, when Derek didn’t seem to be forthcoming in a response, Stiles decided it was time to leave. In actuality it was probably way past the time to leave, in fact he probably shouldn’t have come at all. He turned his back on the room, not bothering to say goodbye, and strode for the door on shaking legs. The Betas didn’t try to stop him, they wouldn’t even look him in the eye. He pretended he didn’t care.

 

‘Stiles, –’

 

Stiles didn’t turn around but he did hesitate in the doorway silently agreeing to listen to what Derek had to say. Part of him hoped for an apology, an explanation, _anything_. When he didn’t continue, Stiles spoke instead, voice soft and bitter.

 

‘I thought you guys would’ve been happy for me, that you’d understand what this means to me. I’ve wanted this for years and you all know that, I _know_ you all know that, and with the way my life has been going at the moment, something is _finally_ going my way. I thought you’d be _happy_. I guess I was wrong. I’ll see you guys around.’

 

He shrugged lightly as if he wasn’t on the brink of tears and his chest wasn’t burning in anger and he wasn’t shaking from the betrayal. As he climbed into the Jeep he sighed deeply, forcing himself to remain calm, and pulled out onto the dirt track, heading back the sanctuary of his own home. As he drove away he adamantly refused to look back, not wanting to know whether anyone had followed him out, whether anyone had even tried to stop him leaving.

 

Despite what he’d expected, he didn’t cry when he got home, he just sat in his room alone, staring at the wall, still for once in his life. He couldn’t fight the emptiness, the hollow feeling in his stomach. Somehow he didn’t think that this was how you were supposed to feel after your dreams came true.

 

He punched the wall, _hard_ , whining a little as his knuckles bruised. Breathing through the pain he dragged himself down the stairs, swallowing past the lump in his throat and desperately trying to convince himself he was still as psyched about the date as he’d been that morning. When that didn’t work, he decided to distract himself until the whole thing hurt less.

 

After all, dinner wasn’t going to make itself.

 

* * *

 

The date itself was a bit of a let-down.

 

It hadn’t been disastrous or anything, but by the time Stiles dropped Lydia home they had both decided that the date had been a one-time only kind of deal and it wouldn’t happen again. And strangely enough Stiles didn’t mind.

 

As it turned out, the Lydia he had dreamed about, fantasised over, and visualised marrying and whisking off into the sunset, wasn’t really the real Lydia at all but more of an idealised version created in the mind of a lonely 13 year old boy and plastered onto the closest thing to perfection in his life. Lydia. And it had grown as he had, manifested itself in poems and love notes, and he’d even convinced himself it was love, and maybe it was, but it wasn’t love for a person that actually existed.

 

And real Lydia was awesome, she really was, and as stunning and smart as fake, imaginary Lydia, but she was also not what he was looking for. She was a little bratty to start off with, criticising him without really noticing what she was doing, like it was second nature or something. And she wasn’t really interested in him either, as was obvious when she flirted with the waiter the entire night, and talked about Jackson like he was the only thing on her mind. And he probably was because even Stiles could see that she loved him, and he loved her, and that there was no place for Stiles in their rollercoaster of a relationship. And even if there had been, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to ride it anymore.

 

He wanted someone who could do low key sometimes, and pretended to listen while they let him talk about the pros and cons of wind turbines, or whether being immensely rich and smart counted as a super power, without complaining or interrupting even if they didn’t really care. He wanted someone who wouldn’t mind if he got distracted, or stayed up for days researching obscure facts because his mind wouldn’t shut down, and maybe even someone he could just be honest to without worrying that he’d offend and lose them. He just wanted someone who liked him for who he was and not just because he was the only person around. And none of that was Lydia.

 

So, by the time he dropped Lydia at her door and accepted the awkward pat on the shoulder she gave him, he wasn’t that upset that his future with Lydia was them as friends at best. And he told her that, feeling content when she gave him a small, real smile in return. It fell away when he mentioned that she should call Jackson and work things out, and she stormed into her house without another word, but he she still felt as if he’d done the right thing so he didn’t mind.

 

When he got home he texted Scott to see what he was doing and whether he wanted to hang out and stay over, and while he waited he went online. He was a little upset that because he’d had to shell out over $100 on dinner he could no longer afford the vintage batman comic he’d been saving up for, but he supposed the closure the evening had bought was worth it. And he could just start saving for it again.

 

His phone buzzed against his leg and he scooped it up and clicked on the new message.

 

**Sorry, @ Derek’s, pack movie night. Tomorrow?**

Stiles frowned, clicking through his older messages to see if he’d known about the movie night, but no one had mentioned it to him. And it wasn’t like they’d known his date was that night because Lydia had moved it because of some dinner her parents were throwing the following evening. Which meant that he’d just not been invited because they didn’t want him there. They wanted to hang out without him.

 

He probably should have expected it, after all he’d told them that he didn’t know if he wanted to be in the pack anymore, but he’d been upset, emotional and he’d felt betrayed, and he hadn’t really meant any of it. Hadn’t they realised that? Apparently they’d taken it to heart, or decided it was easier just to kick him out than deal with his drama, and though he tried, he couldn’t really find it in him to blame them. He’d said some awful things. Especially to Derek. Things he hadn’t meant and should never have said, and now he was being punished for it.

 

Somehow, in amongst werewolves and Alphas, and Kanimas and hunters, between puberty and adulthood and whilst juggling his school life and his supernatural life, Stiles had managed to find a family. Ohana meant family and so did Pack, and somehow he’d managed to be part of a great, if decidedly messed up, one. Well he _had_ managed that, before he’d screwed it all up. Before he’d let his emotions talk for him, let Lydia impair his judgement. Before he’d given them an excuse to get rid of him, because really, it didn’t feel like anyone had really fought for him anyway. And that was perhaps the most disheartening part, that no one even cared.

 

Instead of texting Scott back he turned off his phone and slipped under his sheets even though it was barely 10 o’clock on a Friday night. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do. As he pressed his face into the soft belly of his pillow, he felt the heavy load of self-pity weigh down on him, closing his eyes against the pathetic onslaught of tears that pressed against his eye lids. He wondered if that was his life now, in bed by 10 while his friends all hung out together without him, all because of one mistake. He wondered if he was overthinking it, being paranoid. He wondered who had decided to kick him out, if it was Derek or a majority vote. He wondered if Scott had fought for him. He wondered if they noticed his absence. He wondered a lot of things before he finally fell asleep and even then he wasn’t sure which ones to believe, but one thing he did know was that that night, for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t Lydia Martin he dreamed of.

 

For some reason it was Derek Hale.

 

* * *

 

Ten days later and not much had changed. Well actually Lydia was marginally nicer to him, and she and Jackson were back ruling the school together, but he was still largely on the outside. The pack weren’t ignoring him, they just weren’t including him like they used to. They still sat together at lunch because Stiles sat with Scott and where Scott went the Pack followed, but they barely spoke to him, and they definitely didn’t engage him in conversations. And when he tried they all got these weird, pained and confused faces and mumbled out a response that ended the conversation. After a while he stopped trying.

 

And then, on the tenth day, everything happened at once.

 

He was leaving school, planning to head home and start the monstrous essay he’d been set that day even though it wasn’t due for two weeks. That was one of the pluses of alienating all of your friends, you suddenly have a whole lot more time to do school work, and write that novel you were putting off, and complete that video game that you were struggling over, and explore the reasons you’ve been having strangely erotic dreams about muscly werewolves that used to scare the shit out of you but for some reason, don’t anymore. Stiles was all about the upside these days.

 

When he spotted Scott he figured he’d offer him a ride, save him the trouble of walking, so he veered away from his Jeep and headed his way.

 

‘Hey, Scott, you want a ride?’

 

With a guilty little smile Scott shook his head and muttered something Stiles couldn’t quite catch.

 

‘What was that?’

 

‘I said Derek’s called a mandatory Pack meeting. I’m catching a ride with Jackson. But thanks for the offer dude.’

 

He grinned his dopey Scott grin, and shrugged like he wasn’t just confirming everything Stiles had been fearing for the past 10 day, because if it was a mandatory Pack meeting and Stiles wasn’t invited, then he obviously wasn’t Pack anymore.

 

‘Yeah, whatever, I’ll see you around.’

 

He turned to leave but Scott’s hand on his shoulder pulled him to a stop.

 

‘Dude, what’s wrong?’

 

Stiles sighed, jaw clenching as he turned back to his friend, taking in his puzzled puppy look and melting beneath its adorability.

 

‘Uh, it’s nothing, I just, it kind of sucks being reminded that I got kicked out, you know.’

 

Scott cocked his head, forehead creasing.

 

‘But you told us you didn’t want to be Pack anymore, he, _we_ thought this was what you wanted. To be with Lydia, to be free and stuff because you’re human.’

 

‘It took one date with Lydia to realise she wasn’t what I wanted and I wasn’t what she wanted. I told her to get back with Jackson, you know they’re back together, but by then it was too late, everyone was ignoring me and doing shit without me, and that kind of sucks man because I don’t know if you realised this, but I don’t really have any other friends.’

 

‘Really? That’s what you think? Dude, you should come tonight, tell that to the others, tell that to Derek.’

 

Scott grabbed his arm and tried to pull him forward but Stiles resisted.

 

‘No, Scott we’ve been friends for years, you're not getting rid of me that easy, but they, _they_ don’t want me around and I’m not going to force myself on them just because I’m feeling sorry for myself, and like a massive idiot. You should go though, you're going to be late and Mr Grumpy is going to eat you if you are.’

 

Scott smiled weakly at that, his eyes pitying in a way Stiles hated because that’s what he’d become, someone to be pitied.

 

‘He’s been worse recently. He’s always wound up.’

 

‘And that’s different to normal how?’

 

Stiles snickered but Scott didn’t, instead he frowned deeply.

 

‘No I’m serious, it’s kind of worrying actually. Something really bad must have happened.’

 

He tossed Stiles a knowing look before catching Jackson waving him over urgently.

 

‘I’ll see you later Stiles.’

 

He swung his bag onto his shoulder and sped off to where Jackson was tapping his foot like the little princess he was, slipping into the Porsche before the two sped off together leaving Stiles alone again.

 

As he drove home Stiles worried over what Scott had said. He desperately wanted to know what was wrong with Derek, wanted to know if he was hurt, or if there was some kind of anniversary coming up, or if maybe, just maybe he was missing Stiles. He fervently wished it was the last one, because god knew he missed Derek.

 

* * *

 

As it happened, he didn’t have to wait long to find out.

 

Barely an hour later, as Stiles was part way through the most boring essay ever thrust onto the labouring shoulders of a student, there was a knock on his window.

 

And of course it was Derek, complete with leather jacket and everything, perched nimbly on the roof outside his bedroom looking incredibly awkward. When he caught Stiles staring he gestured to the lock as if he couldn’t just break the lock off and slip inside as he pleased. It was kind of nice that he was respecting Stiles’ boundaries, and it was that that convinced him to let the man in, not the fact that Derek’s face was doing weird things to Stiles’ stomach and chest.

 

He backed away from the window after he’d unlocked it, so that Derek could climb in. There was a moment after the window had been closed that they just stared at each other in awkward silence, before Derek, surprisingly, spoke.

 

‘Scott told me what you said.’

 

‘Good for him.’

 

Derek scowled, frustration practically dripping off of his body. It wasn’t exactly a positive reaction, but it was one Stiles knew better than the awkward, polite Derek he’d been faced with earlier, so he found himself relaxing anyway.

 

‘We were trying to give you space. You were angry, and you wanted to leave. You said this was what you _wanted_. We were giving you what you wanted, that _girl_.’

 

‘You’re right, I _was_ angry, and when people are angry they say things they don’t mean. And yeah, while you were a giant ass about the whole Lydia thing, I guess I kind of was too, and it didn’t work out anyway, but then none of you would talk to me, and you stopped inviting me to stuff, and I figured you just didn’t want me around anymore.’

 

Derek looked pained, and confused, like he was desperately trying to understand what he was hearing but was having very little luck.

 

‘It didn’t work with Lydia?’

 

‘Does no one know she’s back with Jackson? No, it didn’t work with Lydia because I was wrong and I was never in love with Lydia despite her being an awesome and beautiful person. She’s not what I want and I’m not what she wanted, and we parted way amicably the night of our first date and it was all very pleasant. But then Scott texts to tell me that you all made Pack plans without me and that kind of hurt, and then it just kept on happening and no one would talk to me apart from Scott, and I got the message. I’m not Pack anymore.’

 

‘Of course you are. You can’t just leave Pack. We were trying to give you space, you said you wanted-’

 

‘I know what I said, but I was wrong, I didn’t mean it, and I hate this. I have no one to talk to, Scott’s always too busy with you guys and Allison, and I’m stuck doing homework that’s not due for 2 weeks because I have literally nothing else in my life. It sucks.’

 

Derek just stared at him for a long moment, eyes piercing as they seemed to search for something.

 

‘You're welcome to come back if you want.’

 

Stiles faltered in place, practically tripping over his own feet despite being stationary.

 

‘Seriously? You mean it? You’re not still mad at me?’

 

Derek frowned again, but he was kind of smiling at the same time in his constipated Derek way, as if he wasn’t sure what to feel and was trying to supress everything.

 

‘I was never mad at you Stiles, I just overreacted about – because of personal things.’

 

‘Yeah, why did you freak out?’

 

‘It doesn’t matter.’

 

‘Derek-’

 

‘It’s nothing, I got you this.’

 

Cutting of Stiles’ whining, Derek pulled something from inside his jacket, gripping it tightly before thrusting it at Stiles harshly.

 

‘To say sorry. For overreacting.’

 

Stiles glanced down at the comic book in his hands, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. It was the same vintage batman he’d been saving up for, although this one was possibly in even better condition. The plastic covering rustled under his fingertips as he stroked it lovingly, glancing up at Derek who was watching him cautiously from where he was leaning against the wall by the window.

 

‘Dude, how did you know?’

 

Derek cleared his throat before mumbling something about Stiles mentioning it once.

 

‘Do you like it?’

 

‘Do I like it? It’s awesome, you’re awesome. Well unless you don’t want to be awesome. But who doesn’t want to be called awesome? No one, so yeah, awesome all round. Thank you. God I can’t believe I have this. This is mine. I have this. Scott’s going to be so jealous.’

 

And then without really thinking he strode across his bedroom floor and pulled Derek into a kiss, keeping the comic out of the way so it didn’t get crumpled. When he realised what he was doing he quickly pulled away and backed up a few steps, stumbling over his feet a little and cringing at the look of shock on Derek’s face. He choked a little on his own spit before he managed to stammer out a weak chuckle, fighting down the embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

 

‘So yeah, um, thanks for the comic book.’

 

Before he could say anything more the comic book was torn from his hand and tossed onto his desk, and he was pressed up against the door with a werewolf plastered all down his front, lips pressed to his once more. He managed to grab Derek’s shoulders and before he lost all cognitive function and just gave into his instincts, letting Derek do all the work. When Derek finally pulled back, eyes sharp and panting slightly, Stiles put a hand to his prickly cheek and let out a breathy chuckle.

 

‘Awesome.’

 

‘You say that too much.’

 

‘But it was. It was awesome. Wait why was it awesome?’

 

Derek raised an eyebrow.

 

‘No I mean, why was there awesome? Why did the awesome happen? Not that I’m complaining, not at all, just asking. About the awesome.’

 

Derek exhaled violently and withdrew his arms from where they’d been leaning against the wood of the door by Stiles’ head. He didn’t back up any though so Stiles didn’t complain.

 

‘My personal things.’

 

Stiles paused, confused, and was about to ask when it hit him.

 

‘Wait, you were such a dick about the Lydia thing because you were into me? Seriously? Why didn’t you say anything?’

 

‘I didn’t think you’d respond this well.’

 

He punctuated it by leaning in and pecking Stiles on the mouth, his stubble rubbing roughly against Stiles’ flushed cheeks.

 

‘Neither did I to be honest. We’re both full of surprises, me with my apparently desirable body and you with your hidden ability to be contrite and adorable.’

 

Derek backed him into the door again, boxing him in with his own body, his hands finding a home on Stiles’ hips.

 

‘I’m not adorable.’

 

‘No, you’re awesome. Sorry, I forgot.’

 

They locked gazes for a moment before Stiles broke and laughed at the long suffering look Derek had pinned him with. He stopped laughing when Derek butted his forehead with his own, before resting it there, content that he’d got Stiles’ attention again.

 

‘So there’s no Lydia?’

 

Stiles shook his head.

 

‘And despite what both of us thought, you like me and I like you?’

 

Stiles nodded.

 

‘And you’re Pack again even though you were never really not Pack in the first place?’

 

Stiles grinned widely, nodding frantically.

 

‘Does that mean I can kiss you again because right now you look really good and I’ve been waiting a while.’

 

‘Derek, you bought me Batman comics, I think it’s safe to say you can do whatever you want to me and I won’t complain.’

 

Derek grinned, the first genuine smile Stiles had ever seen on his face, and pulled him into a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I really liked the beginning of this fic, though I feel it lost a lot of it's momentum near the end so that's kind of disappointing. I just wish I could write well enough to give these guys the credit they deserve, but sadly I can't. So this is what you get. I hope you liked it anyway. If you want I'm also on Tumbr:
> 
> http://livingwithlycanthropy.tumblr.com/


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